Courting Justice Page 7

  She coughed, nearly choking on the coffee. “You are?”

  “Yes.” He figured she should at least know that since it might come up, and she’d wonder why he hadn’t told her before. “I’m just a minority partner. In fact, I have less than twenty percent ownership in the resort. I got involved mainly for the tax write-offs, but decided it was a pretty nice place to visit every now and then.”

  “I’m sure it is. Single women walking all over the place… This place is probably right up your alley.”

  He chuckled. “Yes, but that was before I decided that I needed to change some things.”

  She took another sip of coffee and studied him. He felt warm under the scrutiny of her gaze. “And when exactly did you make this decision?”

  “A couple of years ago… . In fact, it wasn’t long after I got back from visiting Oklahoma when Sam was out of town.”

  He wondered if she would put the pieces together. He glanced over at her, and thought—not for the first time—that she was a beautiful woman.

  “Why?”

  “It was something I felt I should do. If you remember, I came to Oklahoma to lick my wounds after having just lost a case. Hell, I even thought about quitting practicing law.”

  She blinked. “You did?”

  “Yes. But instead I decided to keep practicing law, but to make some changes in my personal life.”

  “And giving up women was one of them?”

  “Pretty much,” he said quietly. There was no need to explain any more.

  “Um…” She looked down into her coffee cup. “This is delicious.”

  And so is she, he thought. Hell, he knew he had to be patient, but it had been two years already—two years since he’d realized he wanted her, and badly. She had begun invading his dreams, occupying his thoughts at times when he should have been concentrating on other things. That was what had made him decide it was time to make a move.

  “Are you a good actor?”

  Her words interrupted his thoughts. “Excuse me?”

  “I asked if you’re an actor. We need to be really convincing.”

  “And you don’t think we can be?” he asked.

  “You tell me. We’ll have to engage in public displays of affection, kissing, whispering sweet nothings in my ear.”

  He smiled. “I can handle all of that. Can you?”

  She seemed to mull over his question for a moment and then met his gaze. “Yes, as long as we both know it’s nothing serious.”

  His gaze ran over her features again. “Fine.”

  “Good.” She looked at her watch and then placed the coffee cup down. “Now it seems as if I’m going to have to ask you to leave for the second time today. I want to grab a nap before getting dressed for the party tonight.”

  He set his coffee cup down beside hers and grinned. “I know when I’m not wanted.” He moved toward the door.

  “Pouting doesn’t become you, Angelo,” she said, following a few paces behind him.

  He opened the door and glanced over his shoulder. She was right there. He hadn’t realized she was so close. Once again he was tempted to reach out and pull her into his arms and make the kiss they’d shared last night seem like child’s play. “I’ll be back around seven.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  He closed the door behind him and thought to himself, so will I.

  Chapter 7

  Three hours later, Peyton was well-rested when she opened the door to her suite to greet Angelo. For a moment, he just stood there staring at her, as she regarded him hopefully after twirling around. “Well, how do I look?”

  She had to admit she was excited. She was wearing another dress she had purchased on her shopping spree with Mac and Sam, but this particular cocktail dress was one she had picked out herself. Even though it was more modestly priced than the other one, Sam had approved.

  When Angelo didn’t say anything and kept staring at her, she gave him an impatient look, placing her hands on her hips. “Well?”

  He blinked. “You look absolutely gorgeous.”

  His compliment made her smile and boosted her ego a notch. Even if he was exaggerating a bit, she still needed to hear it. “Thanks. I was hoping you would like it.”

  “I do.”

  “It’s not too much?” she asked.

  He cocked his head to the side before throwing it back to laugh. “Sweetheart, if anything, it’s not enough.”

  She laughed, too, and glanced down at herself. He was right. The dress was shorter than usual—much shorter. And the dress was backless and draped all the way to her waist. She was glad her breasts were firm and full and that she didn’t really need to wear a bra, although she always did—just not tonight. She’d decided to pull out all the stops, figuring Lela wouldn’t be playing fair either. She would probably be wearing something provocative. So it made Peyton feel good knowing she had already beaten Lela to the punch.

  “Come in for a minute, I just need to grab my wrap.”

  “All right.”

  She hurried into the bedroom and paused in front of the mirror for a moment to take a deep breath. She couldn’t help it. She had a thing for a man in formal attire—and Angelo looked so good in his white dinner jacket. He even smelled good. She swallowed hard. Why was she feeling butterflies in the pit of her stomach and why was there this intense heat settling right at the juncture of her thighs? It had to have something to do with the way he had looked at her when she’d opened the door. He probably hadn’t expected to see her dressed in such revealing attire—a short, black, almost sheer, body-hugging backless design.

  She smiled. This was the second night at the resort that she had captured a man’s attention, and for some reason she felt giddy that the man was Angelo. The very thought was scary and exciting. She kept reminding herself not to get too carried away. But there was just something about being the center of attention where Angelo was concerned that had her melting inside.

  Was it real or was he play-acting already?

  Granted she didn’t think she was his type, but just about any man would react to what she was wearing. Um, that might be something worth exploring later.

  An imaginary slap brushed the side of her cheek, bringing her back to reality. Somewhere in the back of her mind her subconscious said, Don’t act crazy, Mahoney. You might be attracted to him and there might be a slim chance that he’s attracted to you, but what of it? He’s definitely a hottie. But he’s also a Di Meglio—Sam’s brother—a real player, even though he claims he’s turned over a new leaf. Yeah, right.

  “Are you okay in there?”

  His voice sounded deep, husky and sexy, and seemed to float into the bedroom. “Yes, I’m okay. I’ll be out in a minute.”

  She had to pull herself together before facing him again. “I’m going to use the ladies’ room one last time before we leave.”

  Taking in another deep breath, she rushed into the bathroom.

  * * *

  Angelo glanced at his watch, annoyed with himself that he was feeling agitated. Hell, he needed to get out of Peyton’s suite and fast before he did something he might regret—like following her into the bathroom and taking her against the wall. How was he supposed to get through the night with her wearing something like that? When she’d opened the door and he saw her standing there, he’d nearly swallowed his tongue.

  That black dress showed off every curve and angle—enticingly so. He could tell that her breasts were full, firm, and her nipples were taut and puckered—something that was easily detected through the fabric of her dress. The moment he noticed them, heat surged to his groin and a low moan barely escaped his lips. He imagined what it would be like to reach out and cup her breasts in his hand—to feel them, to lean down and taste them. Never had he wanted a woman the way he wanted
her. And if he didn’t regain control, he would try like hell to touch her tonight—before they even left the room.

  He rubbed his hands down his face, thinking there had to be an easier way to win her over—one where he wouldn’t lose his sanity in the process. He closed his eyes and then wished he hadn’t when all kinds of erotic images raced through his mind, tempting him to no end.

  “I’m ready for real this time, Angelo. Sorry I kept you waiting.”

  He slowly turned, and his gaze raked over her, making it difficult to suppress the urge to make love to her where she stood. It wouldn’t take much to release himself, to lift her already short dress and slide right into her and keep going and going all the way to the hilt and then…

  “Angelo? Are you all right?”

  Her words startled him and he realized he’d been standing there staring at her. “Yes, I’m fine.” He had to stop staring at her. “You’re ready, right?” he asked.

  Instead of responding, she nodded with a wary look in her eye. He didn’t bother saying anything for fear she would give him a response he didn’t want. There were some things a man just couldn’t hide, and he knew his desire for her had to be pretty damn obvious.

  “Then let’s go,” he said.

  “Okay.” She quickly headed toward the door, and he followed.

  * * *

  Peyton scanned the crowd the moment she and Angelo walked into the room. She might have imagined things but it seemed practically everyone turned to stare at them and she knew why. Together they made an eye-catching couple.

  She caught a glimpse of them in the mirrored walls of the elevator and the sight had nearly taken her breath away. As he stood by her side, there had been something about his dashingly handsome looks that had complimented hers. Even the couple who had shared the elevator ride with them had kept saying how good they looked together. In retrospect, she really shouldn’t have been surprised. Angelo brought out the best in any woman he was with.

  “Our table is over this way,” Angelo whispered, as he leaned toward her ear and placed his hand in the middle of her bare back. A shiver rushed up her spine as her stomach muscles clenched at his touch. All it had taken was a brush of his hand to her skin and desire immediately flared through every part of her body.

  He paused briefly as he walked and glanced down at her. “You okay?”

  She met his gaze and nodded. “Yes, why do you ask?”

  “You’re shivering.”

  She already felt the goose bumps on her skin. And if that wasn’t bad enough, her nipples suddenly felt sensitive. With a great deal of effort she tried driving the sensations away. When they reached the table he pulled the chair out for her. “Thanks, Angelo.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She watched as he slid his muscular body in the chair opposite hers. For a moment she just stared, watching how the dim lights seemed to highlight his features. Everything about him seemed to cast a glow—the Rolex watch on his wrist, his gold cuff links and the diamond stud in his ear. It was as if he were lit for a movie set.

  “What do you want to drink?”

  She noticed his lips move and belatedly realized what he had asked her. “A glass of white wine would be nice.”

  “You got it.”

  He grabbed a passing waiter and ordered their drinks, then quickly turned back to her. “You look incredible, Peyton.”

  “Thanks.” She felt tightness in her chest, and glanced around, very much aware that he was still looking at her. She couldn’t help wondering what he was thinking and why he was looking at her like he wanted to devour her. Did the dress really look that good on her? Is that why he was staring at her? But then she asked herself, why was she staring at him as well?

  “There are a lot of couples here tonight.”

  She glanced around and then over at him. “So I see. Do you think Lela will be here?”

  He shrugged. “Not sure, and frankly I don’t care.”

  She wondered how he could say that when Lela was the reason they were there. She was about to remind him of that fact when the waiter returned with their order. She quickly took a sip, feeling she definitely needed it to calm her nerves. His voice was deep and throaty and sent heat sizzling all over her.

  “Good?”

  She glanced up at him and smiled. “Yes. Really delicious.”

  She knew he thought she was talking about the wine, but in reality she was voicing her opinion of him. He glanced toward where the musicians were assembling, which gave her a chance to study him again without being obvious. Her gaze shifted to his own wineglass and focused on his long, strong-looking fingers. His hands were big—big, beautiful hands. Hands she figured could stroke a woman into an orgasm.

  She almost choked on her wine and waited for the sting she was certain would touch her face, and when it never happened she wondered where a good slap of common sense was when she needed it. Why was she thinking about orgasms of all things?

  “You hungry?”

  She lifted her gaze from his hands back to his face. Starving, she thought. “Not really, I’m fine,” she said.

  “Well, I need something. I guess my stomach is like a bottomless pit.”

  His comment made her remember she had glanced at him below the waist before they’d left her room. He’d had an erection, she was sure of it. When she came back into the living room suite, he had turned around, and voila, it had been there, straining hard against the zipper of his pants. It was pretty damn obvious. She’d bit back the temptation to ask where the heck it had come from, and what had he been thinking about to make such a thing happen?

  “So, where do you go after leaving the resort?”

  She took another sip of her wine. “Back home for a couple of weeks. I have some important appointments at the office that I don’t want to miss. Then I’m off to Chicago for a few weeks to visit friends. Then I’m in Oklahoma but not back at work for a while. I’m taking another month off. I need it.”

  “I know what you mean. I’m not looking forward to returning to work,” he said, swirling the wine around in the glass. “In fact, I’ve got another couple of months off, and I plan to enjoy them. I might be coming to Oklahoma to visit everyone.”

  “I’m sure Sam will like that.” She didn’t want to make it seem personal, but she’d like to see him as well.

  The waiter came by again, and Angelo ordered some appetizers that he coaxed her into sharing while they talked about movies, politics and what their favorite television shows were. The group of women from the elevator passed their table and paused long enough to greet them before moving on. She figured they weren’t so bad and weren’t really all that different from her, Mac and Sam whenever they got together.

  “You know them, Peyton?”

  She glanced over at Angelo. “Not personally. We were in the elevator together this morning. They were talking about this hot-looking guy they’ve been checking out here.” There was no need to tell him he’d been the hunk under discussion.

  “I think this would have been a place that Mac, Sam and I would have loved to come to…before they got married and had babies.”

  Something in her tone must have shed light on her inner feelings. “Was that a little resentment I heard?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “No, not resentment—just reality. Things aren’t the same with the three of us. But I’m happy for them. I truly am.”

  “You can have the same things for yourself, you know,” he said in a low voice.

  She didn’t bother looking over at him. Instead she took another sip of her wine. “A husband? Babies? Me?” She chuckled. “No way.”

  “And why not?”

  She shrugged. “Not interested, at least not at the moment. Maybe later, years from now. Please, I’m trying to get a grip on turning thirty.”


  “You don’t look like you’re about to turn thirty. You can still pass for twenty-one.”

  She reached across the table and patted his cheek. “Oh, Mr. Di Meglio, you’re so sweet.”

  “Isn’t this a touching scene?”

  She glanced up. Lela had stopped at their table, and, as expected, her dress made a statement. It was almost see-through in the light. Men were staring and salivating. Women were gasping. If Lela’s goal tonight was to get attention, then Peyton had to hand it to her, she had achieved it hands down.

  “Yes, we think it’s touching,” Angelo said, reaching out and taking Peyton’s hand in his. “Is there anything you wanted, Lela?”

  The woman tossed her head back, which made her breasts tilt upward even higher. A man at the table beside theirs could be heard breathing. “Yes, there is something I want, DeAngelo. I was hoping we could talk for a minute,” Lela said in a soft, seductive voice.

  “About what?”

  Lela looked annoyed that he would ask. “It’s personal, and I prefer that we speak privately.”

  Angelo sighed before saying, “Maybe later, not now. You do remember Peyton, don’t you?”

  Lela tossed Peyton a dismissive glance. “Yes, I remember Peyton.”

  Peyton smiled at Lela as she inched closer to Angelo, entwining her arms with his. “Yes, and I also remember Lela. The woman who has no manners.”

  The woman glared at her and tightened her fingers around the designer clutch in her hand. Instead of responding to Peyton, Lela shifted her gaze back to Angelo. “But we will talk later, won’t we, DeAngelo?”

  She’d stated it as if it was a foregone conclusion. The look Angelo gave Lela was pretty damn cold to Peyton, and it clearly indicated they would be doing nothing of the sort. A part of her thought the woman should probably back off and do so now.

  “Like I said, Lela, I don’t know what we have to talk about. Besides, I intend to spend the entire evening with Peyton,” he said, leaning over and placing a kiss on Peyton’s lips.

  To Peyton’s way of thinking, that should have sent a message to the woman that Angelo wasn’t interested in her and to move on, but Lela was persistent, if not real smart. She asked in an annoyed voice, “What about tomorrow, DeAngelo?”